


Poor Baby

by metrophobic



Series: SP Kink Meme Revival [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Ball Sucking, Bottom Craig, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Nasty boys in love, Oral Sex, Rimming, Top Tweek, Tweek is weird do I ever NOT write him weird???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-04 23:59:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metrophobic/pseuds/metrophobic
Summary: Craig has a very stringent hygiene routine when it comes to his pubic (and ass) hair, stemming from a deeply traumatic incident that occurred in elementary school. (Let's just say it involved learning a very painful truth about his mother.) Tweek thinks this is all really weird and sad. One evening, he decides to finally show his appreciation for everything that Craig does.





	Poor Baby

**Author's Note:**

> The first of many kink fills to come. Prompt: "tweek eating craig's booty like groceries. tweek always gets it, LET HIM HAVE A TURN"
> 
> Check out the new kink meme [here!](http://southparkkinkmeme.tumblr.com)

“Okay,” said Craig, standing in the doorway in nothing but a towel slung around his hips. “I’m ready now, I guess.”

Tweek set aside the book he’d been reading first, then pulled off his reading glasses, and slid down to the foot of the bed. He wore nothing except for the black silk robe loosely draped around his shoulders—he’d long since given up on underwear of any sort, since they always managed to _disappear_ somehow—and he wasn’t really reading, anyhow, not since Craig came home. Not since he gave him a peck on the lips and headed for the shower, and Tweek sat there alone in anticipation, imagining not only the water sluicing over his partner’s beautiful skin but what he’d gotten done, yesterday, and how it might feel. What he _planned_ to do this time, finally—

“Tweek.”

Tweek must have been spacing out again. He blinked once and then his gaze refocused. He’d been staring, hadn’t he? Did it truly matter? Craig had been his for a while now. He was his to look at and adore however he saw fit. “Mhm,” he hummed in affirmation. “Show me.”

Craig whipped off the towel without further ado. Tweek’s attention was immediately drawn to his balls.

Just as Craig said they’d be, they were perfectly hairless.

This wasn’t a strange occurrence in and of itself. Craig normally shaved them. It was part of his hygienic routine. Supposedly, it had been for many years—way before they’d even started having sex.

“I am never going to be like my mother,” Craig lamented one day when he was 16, they were both kind of tipsy, and Tweek had stuck his hands down his pants for the first time. Clearly that incident with the drone had really screwed him up. When he got old enough, he started getting his ass-crack waxed, too. He didn’t want to know, he always said. He didn’t want to know.

But until now, he never had the courage to get his sack waxed at the same time. The notion always made Tweek cringe, too. Honestly, Tweek thought the whole thing was very silly, and didn’t even bother shaving _or_ waxing anything that was below his face. Then again, he wasn’t hairy like the Tuckers were. Sometimes he got a little self-conscious, like when Craig would get him to sit on his face, because if Craig wanted his own asshole to be perfectly smooth and hairless—what on earth would he think of Tweek’s? _No, I love your cute golden fuzz,_ Craig said one day, nosing at his perineum. And that was the end of that.

Craig’s balls hung there at the juncture of his thighs, dark and soft and smooth, the curls up top carefully trimmed and shaped into a landing strip that tapered up into his navel. It looked pornographic. Almost _ridiculously_ pornographic.

And then Tweek couldn’t stop thinking about it: the hot wax, smeared over his poor tender sack. The faces Craig probably made; maybe he even yelped each and every time the paper was torn off.

Poor Craig.

“Uh…” Craig was eying him with apprehension. “What the fuck.”

Tweek had snorted, hand pressed to his face. He didn’t mean for it to be so loud.

“What’s so funny,” Craig demanded to know, and even when he tried to put on a brave face, Tweek could always see through it. He was self-conscious. That much was blatantly obvious, and Tweek quickly shook his head in an effort to diffuse the situation he knew he’d created.

“ _Nn_ — nothing—” But he could barely get the word out before a high-pitched little giggle tickled the back of his throat, and then another, and then he was bending over, trembling with barely-concealed laughter. He held out his other hand, rapidly shaking his head for all he was worth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the towel dangling in Craig’s hand, sad and limp.

Then he was tying it back around his waist.

“ _Nnhhfff_ — _no_ —” Tweek swallowed hard; he fought to get himself under control. “Craig—!”

“Whatever.” Craig wouldn’t even look at him as he stalked past their bed to the dresser, which he promptly yanked open in a dramatic show of _I’m getting dressed right now, because I’m no longer in the mood_. The dejected look on his face make Tweek feel pretty damn guilty. He slid off the bed and crossed the short distance between them, arms slipping around his partner’s waist.

“Oh, Craig,” he said softly, and nuzzled the back of his neck. “Don’t be mad.”

Craig didn’t lean back into the touch, but he didn’t push Tweek away, either. “Fuck off,” he snapped instead. “It’s not funny.”

“I didn’t _mean to,_ ” Tweek defended. “It just—” And then he thought of the waxing process all over again, Craig grimacing as the fine hairs were stripped away from the most sensitive part of himself, and he snorted into the back of Craig’s neck. “— _pffffhh_ —” If that didn’t give him away, the way he started shaking again certainly would.

Which it did. Craig grabbed both of Tweek’s wrists and pried his arms away. “Get off me,” he said, and though he tried to sound stoic and tough in the face of it all—in the face of the love of his life clearly _laughing_ at his _penis_ —Tweek could hear the sad, broken note underlying it all.

“No,” Tweek said, and when that only enticed Craig to fight him harder, he defiantly tightened his hold. “ _Ngh!_ No!”

“I don’t fucking get you,” grumbled Craig, who held a fresh pair of boxers in one hand. Tweek kissed the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” he said, and released one of his arms so that he could reach down, skimming the edges of the towel with his fingertips. “You have a beautiful cock. You _know_ I love your cock!”

“Then why’d you laugh at it.” Craig wasn’t even trying to hide the glumness of his tone anymore, but it was clear he was already melting into the light touches. It was so easy to wear him down; Tweek lived for it.

“Because,” and the novelty of the idea had mostly worn off, so Tweek could draw up the mental image again without tittering like a goddamn schoolgirl, “didn’t it hurt? I kept thinking about how it’d _hurt,_ man! Getting that hot stuff poured all over your junk!” As he spoke, his fingers slid under Craig’s towel, carefully grazing the top of his pubic bone. He could feel the smoothness of his skin there, along with the carefully shaven and trimmed hair that led down to his dick. Tweek carefully curled his fingertips there, not quite touching Craig yet.

“And that’s funny to you,” was Craig’s response, but he leaned back into his lover’s hold, and offered no resistance when Tweek pulled his hand out and tugged off the towel again. It dropped to the floor with a _swish_ and Tweek stroked along Craig’s inner thigh.

“Poor things,” he said quietly, carefully cupping them in his palm. “My poor babies.”

This time, it was Craig’s turn to snort. He turned his head and tucked a kiss into Tweek’s hair. “They’re fine,” he said. “You fucking freak.”

“I don’t know, man,” Tweek said, before he sank down to his knees. “I think they need to be kissed better. You put them through so much! Jesus Christ, Craig!”

“This is actually happening right now,” Craig remarked, and yet without even needing to be prompted, he turned and casually leaned his weight back against the dresser. Tweek’s hands were on his knees, gently urging them apart, and then he did kiss Craig: not on his poor cajones, not just yet, but the tip of his cock. Then Tweek parted his lips and played against it with his tongue, and he heard Craig sigh.

Of course it was happening. There was no way in Hell Tweek was _not_ going to let it happen, no matter how butthurt Craig wanted to get.

The sweet, clean scent of him engulfed Tweek’s senses, all he could breathe in and taste. He opened his mouth and let Craig slide over him, a low murmur of delight rolling from his throat. Craig’s fingers were in his hair, stroking, petting, twisting in the thick locks and gently tugging. Not to stop him, god no, that much was obvious; he was already into it, and he was thickening on his lover’s tongue. Tweek closed his eyes; he could feel his heartbeat. He brought his hand up and curled his fingers around the base of him, as if they could both throb together, syncing with each other’s pulse.

“Baby,” Craig whispered, a little shaky as he gently pet him, “can I fuck your mouth?”

Tweek pulled off entirely, though he still stroked him a little as he spoke. “For a bit,” he said, and dragged his tongue over the tip of him before licking a lazy trail down to the hilt. “I have— I have other things in mind.”

“Okay,” Craig whispered, hurriedly. Tweek had him again and he exhaled sharply before rocking forward. Then he did again, and again; Tweek’s hands were on his hips, yet he didn’t stop him. He splayed one of his hands over the fine bone there and trailed the other around to rest against one of his ass-cheeks, fingertips dipping into the divide as Craig thrust into his mouth. There was a playful edge to his voice when Tweek whined softly up at him, and then he was probing with his fingers, stroking over the freshly groomed skin. He may not have enjoyed the thought of whatever ordeal it’d take to get this soft, this smooth, this perfect—but the results? Fuck, yes. And it was all his. Craig grunted at him when he feigned like he was going to tease his hole, but instead just rubbed a lazy little circle against his tailbone.

Then he was pulling off Craig’s dick again, panting for air. Craig had gotten quite hard at this point, and a little sticky; Tweek licked the head of his cock as a parting gift, and he felt the answering twitch. _Good._

“Damn it,” Craig breathed out, and then he was the one who was whining. One of his hands scrabbled for Tweek’s hair, holding it tight and arching his pelvis forward, seeking more of that warmth. The ensuing slap against his ass rang out in the crisp damp air of their bedroom.

“Don’t be a prick, _ngh,_ ya prick.”

“You don’t make any sense.”

“Shut _up,_ ” Tweek growled, and very lightly brushed his teeth over one of Craig’s balls, as if it was a threat. An empty threat, sure, but Craig gasped and tensed anyway. Tweek segued into drawing it into his mouth, tongue rubbing up all over the velvety-soft skin, and his stupid boyfriend—stupid, but so, so precious, and _delectable_ —made the sweetest noise in response to the unexpected attention. “ _Nn,_ y-yeah,” he said, letting it fall back out, shining and wet. “Poor babies. Poor, poor babies.” He kissed the other one, and then proceeded to give it the same treatment.

“Yeah,” Craig said dumbly, in a way that Tweek knew he’d probably gotten all slack-jawed. “Poor babies. What the _fuck._ ” Tweek reached around him, promptly squeezed both cheeks in his hands and spread them apart. Craig flinched, but he didn’t fight him. Not by a long shot.

“Get on the bed,” said Tweek. He raised his eyes to meet Craig’s face for the first time. He was glassy-eyed, his lips parted, and it seemed like he could scarcely even focus on what was right on front of him—let along the damn bed. Tweek pinched him on the ass. “Did you fuckin’ hear me, Craig?”

“Yeah!” Craig said suddenly, as if startled. Tweek smirked up at him.

“You want me to keep sucking your balls, or not?”

“I’ll come if you do,” Craig answered quietly, like he was embarrassed, and yet he did what he was ordered anyway. He always did. Tweek watched him climb up onto the bed knees-first, and then he just sort of perched there, as if unsure what to do next. Tweek’s gaze swept appreciatively over his form as he drew closer. He really was gorgeous, and he wanted to fucking eat him up.

 _Mine,_ he thought excitedly, as he eased himself up onto the bed behind Craig’s body, and pressed a hand against his back. Craig seemed to get the cue, even if he was clearly confused, stretching out on his hands and knees. Tweek smiled and eased his head between his thighs.

“You taste so good, Craig,” he cooed at him, dragging the blunt, calloused edges of his fingers over his inner thighs. If there were nails, they might’ve scratched him, but Tweek had bitten them all down recently, and so there was only his rough skin to contend with. With the way his knees shook, briefly, it was clear that Craig enjoyed it anyway. Tweek pressed down on his ass and proceeded to slather his tongue all over that perfect, lovely, poor tortured sack of his. “ _Ngh,_ yeah. So good. Know what I’m gonna do?”

“No?” Craig choked out.

“Tell me how good it is, and you’ll find out,” Tweek taunted him. Then he was drawing him back inside, one by one—he didn’t trust himself to take both at once, Craig was a sensitive boy after all, and these were very fragile places—Craig’s fists were gripping the sheets so tight he could hear the bed creak beneath his fingers.

“It’s— _ah fuck_ — it’s so good, fuck, babe.” Craig’s forehead was pressed against one of the pillows. “Shit, fuck, that’s good. Keep doing that.”

“So you’re not— _haaah_ —not pissed at me anymore? _Mm._ ” Tweek drifted off-course to lap at the head of Craig’s dick again. He was slick, and hot there, and dripping on his tongue. It was _so_ fucking hot that Tweek briefly considered just blowing him after all, but no, _no_ — he was going to do this. Craig had done it for him so many times, and never asked him to return the favour, and he deserved it. He was so sweet and he deserved it, he had it coming for a while now, and Tweek wasn’t going to pussy out. No fucking way in Hell.

“No,” Craig said quickly. _No, so please don’t stop,_ were the unspoken words there. “No, I wasn’t anyway… baby, please, oh please…”

“Please what?” Tweek chuckled lightly and dragged his tongue all the way down to Craig’s balls again; he teased them with a few swirling, open-mouthed kisses.

Craig shivered above him. “Fuck me,” he hissed out.

“Oh, _ngh,_ I’m gonna— yeah, I’m gonna fuck you, Craig. _Nnh._ ” Tweek dragged his tongue all the way around until he was rubbing it against the place behind Craig’s dick. “Yeah, I’m gonna fuck you, just not the way you think. I’m not gonna fuck you the way you think, man, y’know what I mean?”

Craig was squirming, his toes curling behind him. “No, I don’t. I don’t know what you mean, damn it, don’t tease me like this. God damn it, Tweek.” Tweek tilted his face ever-so-slightly and bit his ass-cheek, right next to his taint. He jerked in surprise and then moaned quietly when Tweek didn’t move away but suckled at the skin there. “Your fingers?” he tried, voice strained. Tweek released him.

“ _Grrrhh!_ No, stupid! With my tongue!” He licked up and down the mark he’d left behind.

“Your _tongue?_ ” Craig stiffened beneath him.

“Yeah, _ngh,_ my _tongue._ I’m gonna— _nnn_ gonna stick my tongue in your ass, so you might wanna be on your tummy for this.”

“Wait—” Craig gasped out, and then he positively fell apart, because Tweek had spread his cheeks and promptly licked a trail from his balls all the way to his tight, perfect little hole; he _did_ fall then, because his knees buckled, and he was flat on his stomach just like Tweek told him, but Tweek had been ready for it. He nibbled over Craig’s ass and held it apart with his hands, taking up position right behind him, tongue stroking up and down his smooth crack before poking at him again. Craig might have been making more of those sexy little noises but Tweek could scarcely hear them, dulled to whimpers, he’d clearly pressed his face into the pillow.

Tweek swatted at him. “No,” he said firmly. “No hiding your face. I wanna hear you.”

“But—” and Craig cut himself off with a strangled whine when Tweek licked at him again, tongue dragging in little circles around the taut ring of muscle that was already relaxing for him. “D-don’t, I’m—”

“You’re what?” When Craig shook his head, Tweek spread his cheeks further. “You’re _what,_ Craig?” He licked at him between little bursts of words, and this was great, no, it was incredible—what had stopped him from doing this before, anyway? Oh, right. It was because Craig was always so fucking self-conscious, and Tweek had things about himself that he didn’t like, either, but Craig would let him jam his fingers up there _or_ his dick but he couldn’t even take something as simple as getting his ass kissed? Even though he fucking went to _town_ on Tweek’s “fuzzy” ass like it was the best dessert he’d ever tasted in his life? Even though he put himself through all these _stupid_ procedures that looked painful and, ultimately, seemed completely unnecessary.

And what now? Craig was about to tell him something, something important, perhaps— was it? Was it really the answer, the reason he’s built this up for so long? “I’m—” Craig was trying again, squirming against the sheets, whimpering every time Tweek lapped at him and practically sobbing whenever he anointed that place with wet little stabs. He hadn’t even gone inside yet.

“You’re _what_ —” Tweek asked again, impatiently emphasizing the question with a hard lick, and his name, “— _Craig?_ ”

“I’m s—” Craig moaned something out, but Tweek couldn’t understand him. He nipped at one of Craig’s firm cheeks to get his attention.

“Huh?”

“Shy!” Craig finally cried out. “I’m shy.”

Tweek snorted. He couldn’t help it.

“I _know_ you’re shy, stupid,” he said, but there was nothing but affection in his tone this time. “I know you’re shy, baby,” he repeated, but softer this time, gentler, and then he stroked him with his tongue, over and over, listening to his quiet moans. “What I _don’t_ understand, is why. _Nnn._ I dunno why, you’re so— _god,_ your ass, it’s so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, and you taste so good. You taste so good, and I— I wanna make you feel good. Does it feel good, Craig?” Tweek knew he was babbling like an idiot, but he couldn’t remember being turned on this much, not in a while, and he kept interspersing his little whispers of delight with licks, and kisses, and nips. “Is it good? You like it? Like having me lick you?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Craig choked out. “Yeah, it’s so good, _fuck,_ I love your mouth.”

“ _Ngh._ I— I wanna hear that again. Say that again, you little— _hnn._ Little slut. Want my tongue now, slut?”

“Please!” Craig moaned. Obviously he wasn’t shy anymore. Tweek grinned to himself.

“Yeah, that’s my little bitch,” he cooed, smoothing an appreciative hand over him. “All mine, you’re so nasty Craig, you act like you’re better than that, but you— _nngh,_ you thought about this, huh? Every time you ate me out. You wanted it too, didn’t know how to ask for it, wouldn’t even let me _try_ ‘cause— what? You’re too _shy?_ Is that really all? Jesus Christ, man.” Tweek prodded at him again, and felt the little throb there, that pulse he loved holding so many times and feeling all around him, running all the way through Craig’s dick and balls and into his asshole and, ultimately, into _him._

“Uh-huh,” Craig choked out. He sounded like he was about to cry. “I’m not— _fuck_ — I’m—”

“Not what? Think you’re not as _cute_ as mine or something _, nnn_ something _dumb_ like that?” It was a shot in the dark, but Craig was nodding fiercely, whimpering. “Well, you _are_ cute, you’re fuckin’ _hot_ and I love it, I _love_ your beautiful ass and I’m gonna wreck you with my tongue and you’re gonna come all over the bed from it. And you’ll love it too. But you gotta say it first.”

“Wh— say what—”

“You know what. You know what, Craig.” Tweek finally stopped talking then, and went back to teasing him some more, licking up and down and around, around in circles, nudging up against him like he did sometimes with the head of his cock when he wanted to reduce Craig like this, too. When he wanted to hear the things he knew Craig would give him, without question.

“Please,” Craig choked out, spreading his legs and then he leaned forward, face pressed into the pillow before he seemed to suddenly remember Tweek’s demand that he _not_ do that—which was also par for the fucking course, so who the Hell did he think he was fooling, anyway?—and he lifted his head again. “Please,” he said softly. “Put it in me. Please.”

“Put what in you, Craig?” Tweek murmured, not stopping his onslaught, ever-patient.

“Your… your tongue. Your tongue.”

“In where?”

“In my—” Craig swallowed so hard that Tweek could actually hear it. “In my asshole,” he whispered.

Tweek jammed it up into him then, didn’t drag it out any further than that, and Craig actually _yelped_ in response. This was a first for them both, and somehow, the clench around his tongue reminded Tweek of that: a sensation that would have been familiar for anything else, like his fingers or his own _cock,_ but this was different, somehow. Different, but not disgusting—not that he’d expected it to be, considering Craig had selflessly done this many times to _him_ and could never seem to get enough of it—and then Tweek realized immediately that he couldn’t get enough of this, either, for himself. There was something primal _and_ vulnerable about it, and he clutched at Craig’s cheeks while flexing and flickering in and out, growling possessively. He didn’t have the expertise Craig picked up when it came to tending to his ass, but Craig clearly loved _whatever_ he was doing, because he was thrashing and moaning and grinding his hips against the bed, and choking out a bunch of scattered pleas and pet words.

“Please, please, _fuck,_ _fuck that’s so good,_ baby, I can’t— baby I’m gonna come, it’s— it’s too much, I— oh _please,_ please— _please_ —”

Tweek wanted to grant him permission, but he also didn’t want to _stop,_ either, and he’d have to if he wanted to speak. So he just nodded quickly, hoping Craig would feel it, and he didn’t give any confirmation; only kept moaning out _yes, yes, please, I’m gonna come, please_ until he finally did, and Tweek squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn’t withdraw until the frantic writhing of his lover’s hips stilled, and the fierce desperate clenching of his asshole stopped, and then Tweek finally pulled out his tongue and gave a few cursory licks before first pressing a kiss to the base of Craig’s spine, and then biting him there. It was a playful gesture that wasn’t at all different from his normal little digs at him, but Craig jerked hard in surprise anyway, and then he reached back with a shaking hand to pat Tweek’s head. Tweek leaned against Craig’s back somewhere in the middle, and Craig haphazardly stroked his hair. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Tweek’s heart was still pounding—he was hard as a fucking rock—but what he’d done to Craig, finally, was worth it. Even if Craig fell asleep on him.

“I, uh,” Craig finally broke the silence, “I kinda started bleaching, too.”

“ _What?!_ ” Tweek yelped, because of all the things he’d expected Craig to say after they’d cuddled post-first-time-anilingus—well, that hadn’t been among them.

“My… you know.”

Tweek sat up in surprise. “Your asshole? That’s really a thing!?”

“Yeah,” Craig said, and quietly cleared his throat. “Well, the skin around it, but yeah.”

“That’s _sick,”_ Tweek said, and slapped his ass for good measure. “I didn’t know people _really_ did that.”

“Yep.”

“Well,” Tweek huffed at him. “ _Don’t._ Don’t bleach your asshole, Craig. _Agh!_ That’s so fucking _stupid,_ what the _fuck,_ man!”

“We can’t all be natural blonds with beautiful, pale skin and perfectly pink assholes that blend into the surrounding terrain, Tweek.”

Tweek slapped his ass again. _Hard._ “I don’t— _grrhhhh,_ I don’t _want_ you to have a ‘perfectly pink asshole’, Craig, you stupid fucking _fuckass!_ ”

“Ow.”

“Yeah, _ow._ _Gah!_ Fuck you! Of course you don’t have pale skin, you’re _darker_ than me and I fuckin’ love it, goddamn it, what’d I just tell you, huh? Well?”

Craig sighed. So it was going to be like that, was it.

“I _mean it,_ Craig!” Tweek slapped at him a third time and then he was sitting up, grabbing hold of Craig’s cheeks so he could spread them apart again. “Poor baby,” he whispered sadly.

“Uh,” said Craig. “Are you doing that stupid thing you did to my balls earlier, but to like, my asshole?”

“Poor _thing,_ ” Tweek said louder, with more feeling, and nuzzled Craig’s tailbone before leaving a kiss there.

Then he moved lower.

**Author's Note:**

> But seriously, come join us over at the [kink meme](http://southparkkinkmeme.tumblr.com), now revived in a new Tumblr format. We're already started picking up in activity over the past week.


End file.
